


from one dead man to another (the world is changing)

by WhirlyBird70



Category: Campaign (Podcast), One Piece
Genre: Discussion, Found Family, Gen, Hurt, One Piece is older Skyjacks world before the (first) fall, Sea pirates meet sky pirates, and brook emotions i guess, anywAYYYY, brook draws pararells between luffy and orimar, okay not really because pirate doesnt exist anymore but, one super old dead guy talks to a younger dead guy about fate and captaincy and crew, orimar vale for third pirate king 2020, those last four are there for like three seconds at the end im sorry, what do i even call this actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhirlyBird70/pseuds/WhirlyBird70
Summary: On the deck of a flying ship, one dead man (a skeleton, really, from an era long past) talks to another over a laying of cards.(Freedom has always been a crown, no matter if ships sail on land or sea, and Orimar Vale has always reached for things bigger than himself. Brook just wants some company, for once.)
Relationships: Brook & Monkey D. Luffy, Brook & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Brook & Orimar Vale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	from one dead man to another (the world is changing)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so hi, quick explanation:
> 
> for skyjacks fans: brook is a walking talking pirate skeleton who ate a devil fruit when he was alive that granted him the ability to have a second life as a skeleton. he sails under monkey d. luffy (first name luffy) in the One Piece world, helping luffy become the Second Pirate King. this fic takes place after that, which hasnt even happened in canon.) He is the muscian upon the ship.
> 
> for one piece fans: Orimar Vale is the captain of the sky ship Uruhu in the world of Speir, who died under mysterious circumstances and was ressurected as a puppet like preserved corpse by Dref Wormwood, a necromancer. Over the course of the podcast, he is gaining some sort of sentience. this fic ones with that. a running gag in the series is ' the captain winks'
> 
> and yea thats all you need to know for this fic because canon is fake now

Brook has almost never quite seen a man like this before. He is like him, but not in the ways that matter. (Not in the ways of flesh and bone and the lack thereof.) Yet.... there is a gleam to his eyes that Brook will never have again.

(Not that he has eyes… skull joke!)

Brook strums his guitar, an old thing from an era long past and fallen, and laughs.

_“Yohohoho!_ It is a pleasure meeting you, dear sir.” The bones of his face shift into a smile, gleaming white, with an aura of things not quite from this world (not anymore.)

(This world is not his anymore.)

Still, despite the walking, talking skeleton, the man across from Brook does nothing but shuffle a pack of cards.

“My name is Brook, though long ago I went by many titles. And Oh! What a time that was. I’m sure you, of course, have tales from before.” Brook tilts his skull back as he looks at the captain.

_The_ captain.

Not _his_ captain, of course (there will never be another– Brook has only ever had two, and the last one would be his until the end of eternity.

He is loyal, and no man should forget where is loyalty lies.)

But it is important to recognize the power and confidence of the man before him, a presence that could only belong to a captain. So -

The Captain it is, who continues in his task, ignoring the eyes of a dead man.

(Which one?)

The cards in the man’s hands are being played across the table now, flipped over one by one to reveal pictures of grace and beauty.

Of danger and threats.

_The Forest Queen._

_The Island._

_The Maiden_

“How many ships have you conquered, do you know? Conquests taken, lovers kept and hearts broken? Did you free people or take them?”

He’s a captain of course, a powerful one, which means he must have done this in some form, even if on accident. This is one of the truths of the world that Brook has long since etched into his nonexistent heart. People like them… they do not live life calmly.

More cards. The captain across from him waves his fingers across the designs on them, hands calloused with the marks of a pirate, a sailor, though the seas are not troubled by anyone now, for the most part.

(Often, Brook wishes they did.)

(Perhaps he would have more company then. A few more memories to play around in his mind.)

_The Children._

_The Soldiers._

_The River._

“My crew, my beloved friends, they did it all! I hope, where ever they are they are continuing to do so – chasing dreams across endless waters and freeing countries from tyrants and gods.” The captain does not acknowledge the odd lilt – something like a breaking, a shattering – in Brook’s voice

The breeze from the sky rushes against their cheeks – that is, if Brook had any. _Skull joke!_ The skeleton smiles at the wind as the tune from his instrument wavers across the sky. The man across from him, again, does not react to the wind or the sky or the sun. This table that they sit at, this duel between souls, is on the deck of some ship, but the captain does not seem to care.

Seem is the key word, for Brook knows souls and he knows this man.

He loves the sea and open air and sky. He loves freedom, if freedom has changed from water to air now. Freedom is still a crown, after all.

The captain is smiling, if his face does not show it.

Ringed hands place three more cards down.

_The Union._

_The Loom._

_The Perfect Crime._

“My captain, my King, did both you know. Free people and take them, all at once. He was so selfish, so foolish, so brave. He took me from the fog and brought me too the light, and never told me that I would be his forever more. Funny that, that with his freedom came power and chains of love.”

The captain sits back now, shuffling the remaining cards once more. There are jewels in his hair and jewels decorating his neck, his coat like a louder, more imposing version of Brook’s own Captain’s coat. Red, and burning and bold – a captain in spirit and force and presence.

Brook does not know much about this man sitting before him. A captain, perhaps, a dueler maybe. A man who wants to be king, most definitely, and a player for sure.

But his soul? Brook does not want to say for certain, for all that it rings for love of the sky, but he things this is the kind of man his captain would have liked.

He’s certainly tall enough, towering as he is, and the confidence in which he lays these cards out is one Brook finds rarer these days, when one is not gambling.

“Do you like your crew, good sir? You seem the sort too. All good captains do.” Brook’s skeletal fingers pause on the strings of his guitar as he stares at Luminaries on the table. He’s played before, who hasn’t in this world of seasons and sky? A gamble was a gamble and a life was a life. Brook had neither money nor life but he did have a siren song, and a good game was a good way to past the time.

In bars, performing on a stage where not everyone screamed his name ( _Soul King! Soul King!_ Was a cheer he heard before but nowhere near as treasured as _Brook! Brook!_ From dear friend’s voices) he had seen many a man and woman and person lose their way to the game. Only stupid sailors walked into a game expecting to win without loss.

The captain is not a stupid man, but expects to win nonetheless.

But they are not playing on this empty, floating ship deck.

They are merely talking, existing.

One dead man to another.

Brook looks at the cards.

“A reading of man, aye? Of the future or the past? I have already lived longer than most, longer alone than with company, but you learn to treasure moments spent together. And fate, dear captain sir, has no bearing on my life.”

The captain raises an eyebrow, the first expression he has given thus far. Brook takes pride in it.

“Yohohoho! It’s true!”

Luminaries, spread out upon a table, with no board or setting or anything of the sort, is an art that few know now. Brook was there for the birth of these Luminaries, and he was there for their rise and their not quite fall. This is a game he knows well.

The Luminaries dictate a life lived or a life to live.

Brook has been given the gift of life and ordered by his Captain, his beloved Captain, King, Lord, Savior, to keep living until the natural end. 

Brook will never mutiny, and thus, the Luminaries can only show what he has already lived for Brook has almost quite lived it all. There is nothing new the Luminaries can tell, nothing that Brook doesn’t know is already coming.

And what use is there to know? The end of the story takes away the fun of living after all, _yohohoho_! His captain, not this captain, had made sure to teach him that.

The captain before him is on his second life, but Brook will leave it to him to figure out the truth of a life twice lived.

Strings of the divine pull at him as he begins to strum again, a familiar tune filling the air. 

_“Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho, Yo-hohoho, Yo-hoho-ho –_ Oh, I don’t suppose anyone knows lyrics to that one these days. Shame – it is my favorite! Though I suppose I could play something more fitting to the mood, dear captain sir?”

The captain nods his head, short and simple, looking out over the clouds as Brook readies a different tune. One more familiar to the skies than the sea.

Funny, how the world changes. Brook had sailed in the sky before, to islands made of cloud and beautiful sights, on a ship fit for a king, but nothing quite like this.

Sustained flight – oh how his crew would marvel!

The captain stares pensively at his cards as Brook hums the song in tune with his guitar.

_“Health to the strangers who've ever been kind, And once for our friends ne'er to rise…”_

In the sky there are no dangers for devil fruit users that would not kill any other.

In the sky, Brook has learned more truths than not, stories of the second fall and the truths behind the devils that lurk in his chest.

There is a church of a slain god now.

Do they know that before, men (a man, a king) dueled with gods instead of worrying himself with mortal affairs? Do they know of the bones that lie on the moon, and the beast that dwell in the deep? The ruins of a kingdom long fallen at the bottom of the ocean and the countries above the ships where even the loftiest air ships could never reach?

Brook knows they do not know, but still, he wonders.

( _What if what if what if_ – what if he was not alone?)

“Ah, good captain sir. Tis a marvelous day. I hope you find joy in it.” He’s lost his train of thought. It’s common, now, in some nine hundred perhaps thousand years of life.

Truly, though, he’s no worse than when he was in the fog. At least this time he can go where he pleases, and feel the sun shine so warmly on his sea bleached bones.

The captain takes back the cards he splayed out for Brook and reaches into his coat pocket. A card, slender and gleaming, of much better quality than the rest, is held between his ringed fingers. The card is slipped into the Illimat deck and quickly hidden but –

Brook knows better.

He watches, fingers still moving on the guitar, as none other than Orimar Vale, the man with the smile of the devil, picks his own fortune.

There is only a single card chosen this time. Orimar Vale is in his second life, yes, but his first ended too early for a man of his persuasion. He has much to live for – much to dream for, Brook hopes (knows.)

The wind blows.

The sun shines brighter.

The flag of the Uhuru flies in the wind, jolly roger gleaming proud in the sky.

The captain, the ‘Devil’s Grin’, places a card upon the table between them.

A smile curls Brook’s bony face.

_The Straw Hat._

(The mark of the Second Pirate King shall never be forgotten.

Brook had made sure of that in the creation of the Illimat, even if only the worthiest of sailors knew. A man dies when he is forgotten, and his captain will _never_ die.)

This deck’s straw hat is wreathed in gold, shimmering in the light. The red band around it is _vibrant_ , like slashes of blood on golden jewels, and it is a sort of fitting ruthless in the open air that makes Brook wish to sing. As it is, Brook looks at the way the hat is tilted like a crown and the way a crescent design beneath it slopes like a familiar scar.

(Now, people say that design is tradition, a tribute to some moon or star or other pattern. In reality, it is just the face of his captain, captured imperfectly on paper. A pity, really, but Brook will take it.)

“A king, aye? A worthy goal, dear captain sir. Do you have what it takes? Do you have the Will of Kings, the will to reach for freedom?” Brook asks, meeting a dead man’s eyes with empty sockets at last. A grin forms brighter then, a smile curving lips of bone and flesh alike.

The captain winks.

“ _Yohohoho_!”

Orimar Vale is not a successor, and never will be. The throne of Monkey D. Luffy will _never_ be over thrown, of that, Brook is sure.

But – to have someone to challenge the seas, the skies, to take what he sees as his, with his beloved crew at his side? To have someone be bold and daring and unchanging again – to have the will of conquerors and kings that are from an era long past, beating again in time with the waves of the crashing sea?

_That_ is a challenger.

Brook will gladly see him _fight._

( _Win.)_

Something solid settles on his chest, and it feels a little like hope again.

(A little like freedom.)

“Then, dear sir, I will be taking my leave.” Brook has his answer to his unasked question. It wasn’t something he expected to find when venturing upward to some strange, divine pull, but it is welcome all the same.

Orimar is dead, but so is Brook. Neither of them are forgotten however, and the sea does not let hers go quietly. The sky is the same.

“I do hope you succeed, dear sir, and I will be watching. You love your crew, don’t you? The Uhuru is a place for the lost and the lonely. Perhaps soon I will join your ranks – though not as a crew member I can assure you that.” Brook chuckles at this, collecting his violin and placing his cane over his wrist. “It’s been so long, dear sir, since I have been part of a crew.”

To their left is a commotion, a crashing of crates and the shouts of chaos.

“Ga-Gable! Do, do, do not rush in so brash!”

“Dref. There is something aboard this ship – something that _should not be here_ – and it’s not the fucking captain! What do you _expect_ me to do?”

“Relax?”

“Travis, I don’t think you should be telling that to Gable.”

“Oh hush, Jonnit – wait, did you hear that?”

The deck had cleared out when Brook had stepped onto the Uhuru. He was no conqueror, but his soul was powerful. He could influence those when he wanted to.

But an angel – oh, and a _seer_? A _changeling_? Oh, those were mighty souls indeed, some he had not seen the likes of for centuries.

(Yes, Orimar is most definitely like his captain, to be able to pluck the strongest, most unsuspecting people and trap them into the most selfish loyalty one could have. The strong gravitate to him, people from unlikely paths, and somehow, Orimar does not seem to care – but only seems to love.

Just like the pirate king indeed.)

However, unlike the necromancer, Brook has no real urge to mess with the warriors of the divine at this moment. They were simply not fun, always trying to smite him when he smiled at them in the most kindly of fashions.

Orimar does not look behind him as the scolding draws closer, only watches calmly as Brook jumps onto the railing, steps feather light, like the breeze could blow him over at any moment. “Take care of them, won’t you, dear captain? Friends are the most cherished type of freedom.”

Orimar nods.

“Then, Farewell! Till we meet again!”

And as the captain’s inner circle rounds the bend of the ship, Brook steps off the ship a thousand yards above the sea, and falls into the open air.

Behind him on a lonesome sky ship bursts of confusion echo, but Brook only laughs as he falls and falls and falls, into the embrace of the sea.

And all Orimar does, when Dref murmurs about him and plucks the Straw Hat card from his hands, is winks.

_Yohohoho!_

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, not my usual thing, and im sorry for dropping off the face of the earth like that for a bit but!! here!! skyjacks x one piece crossover!! 
> 
> Thank you to oceanaromantic on tumblr for both getting me into skyjacks, and for letting me scream about this crossover with you. sorry it took me so long to actually post it!
> 
> Anyway, if you havent read/listened/watched either of these series, I highly recommend both!! They are both so fantastic, and, well, found family + pirates what more do you want in the world?
> 
> If you see any mistakes or typos please let me know! typos are my enemy i will not get mad or anything if you point them out. thank you!
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this incredibly niche crossover!!! <33
> 
> \- whirly
> 
> [My Tumblr!](https://whirlybirdwhat.tumblr.com)


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